Shield Cohort Ch 03

Chapter 03: Scary Steve

+++

In our third story detailing the exploits of the recent college grads employed by the fictional nationwide corporation, Shield Insurance, we get to know "Scary Steve," the mystery man of the cohort.

As with all the Shield stories, this is mostly a character study and a mostly lighthearted examination of the role sex and romance play in the lives of young people striving to find their place in the adult world. It's not a "quick stroke" story. Of course, it wouldn't be posted in "erotic couplings" if it didn't feature some hot loving along the way.

+++

Of all the members of the "Agents of Shield" cohort, Mikey Skardowski was the best fit for the town of Wanowee, Wisconsin. He had grown up in the heavily Polish town of Kasimir, only twenty minutes from Green Bay. The football-crazed burg of Wanowee felt much like home—except the names began with "Van" or "Vander" instead of ending with "-ski" or "-czyk." Rookworst was no kielbasa, but he had already come to love stamppot and apple pancakes—not together, mind you!

And he had also found love with a Shield co-worker in Wanowee. April Price, the diminutive painter, had stolen his heart. And to make his good fortune in this town seem an embarrassment of riches, sweet little April was far and away the most passionate, and in some ways dirtiest, lover he had ever known. After a youth that had been filled with a fair sampling of cheerleaders and jock-crazed co-eds, Mikey had been just looking for someone with some emotional and intellectual depth. He'd found himself a teacup tigress with an angel's heart.

That was why Mikey was so surprised with the emotion he felt toward her today. Annoyance. Genuine irritation. Sure he'd always loved the way she challenged him intellectually and morally, but her good intentions had turned her into something of a busybody. Brigid and she had always been inclined to help people out, but ever since the roommates had found great joy in their respective relationships with Ollie and Mikey, they'd become convinced that everyone absolutely HAD to find the same type of happiness. It was all too HOWARD'S END for Mikey. "Think of the good karma you'll build up for yourself," he muttered in impersonation of what his love had said in bed that morning. He drifted back a few hours:

***

"Why don't you gather in all this good karma, then?" he asked, kissing her fingertips and wrist.

"Well, I get good karma for helping you gain some of your own... All right, it's because...on the night of the cohort's first big party...I sort of kissed him."

"Really?" he stopped the finger-kissing and stared at her.

"You're not mad?"

"No, of course not." He kissed her fingers again. "I didn't even know your name back then. You were just 'the Bohemian chick' who was rooming with the Irish chick. Well, the "hot Bohemian chick." I'm just stunned that you found a way to kiss a man who scarcely ever speaks to anyone!"

"Well, it was strange. Brigid pointed him out as looking a little lonely, so I went over to introduce myself and make him feel part of things."

"And..."

"We talked for a while. He was so shy, but very nice in his own way...a little sad. I asked him if he had a girlfriend; I thought maybe Brigid and I could find him one. But then the wrong thing happened at exactly the wrong time. Just as he told me he didn't have a girlfriend, someone bumped into me and I fell into him, and he accidentally got quite a handful of my tits."

"Lucky bastard!"

"No, it all went wrong! I stepped back, embarrassed as hell. I've been clumsy my whole life, you know that. He thought I was upset and started stammering apologies. He gestured with his arm and knocked my cup of Jerry's nasty red whopatooli out of my hand and down the front of my dress!"

"The tan one?"

"Um-right... Anyway, I was trying to reassure him after that. He had turned away because he was so mortified that he didn't want to look me in the eye. He was like a scared little boy, so I put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. He turned back at that instant and found me on my tiptoes with my lips puckered. He grabbed me by both cheeks and planted a big one on me!"

Mikey began to laugh. He fought to conceal it, but there was no mistaking the shaking movements of his torso. His little angel WAS a klutz, and he adored her for it. She raised an eyebrow at him and continued her tale. "Who could blame him? The moment I found out he didn't have a girlfriend, I put my tits in his hands and then puckered up right at him! I was so red-faced I just bailed on him. I—just can't walk up and talk to him about girlfriends again."

"I guess not."

"And Mikey, don't think I didn't notice."

"I was trying not to laugh."

"Not that. You remembered what dress I was wearing to a party six months ago! Before we even knew each other!"

"Well, you looked good in it."

"You're getting the special treat!" And then she did the thing that drove Mikey crazy. Neither one of them even knew if it had some cool sexual name. So, it was just called "the special treat." She got on top and slid down so that her slick female parts were rubbing against his erection. "What do you want, Mikey?"

"The special treat!"

"Use the words you want to use, baby. This is dirty sex time, not sweet love-making time."

"Rub that sweet little pussy on my big cock!"

"Good boy." Her little hands played at the top side of his erection while she ground and slid around on its underside. She cupped the glans and massaged it gently. Her ginger pubic hair was soon quite wet with her own lubrication. She turned around so that her bottom was toward him and started to rub the other side. "Do you want to say anything else?"

"You are so fucking hot! Rub your little clit on my dick while I look at your sweet little ass!"

"Mikey, say it all! I love it."

"You are my hot little fuck! You make me crazy you dirty little slut!"

"Only for my man!"

"MY dirty little slut! Just for me!"

"Yes, baby! Only for you! Rub my clit!" He reached his long arm around her and massaged her clit.

"N-n-n-n-nn!"

"Whimper for me dirty pretty hippie! Whimper because you're so turned on!" He was nearly there. This always put him over so quickly.

"Cum for me, Mikey. Cum in my dirty little hands!" He willingly obliged. She took a finger and put a taste of his seed in her mouth. She smiled, rolled back and kissed him deeply before she started to get up to get ready for work. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her back down to the bed.

"It's still dirty time!" He put her on her back and lowered his face toward her sex. "Say it."

"Eat my sweet little pussy, baby. You're hot for me. Make me cum! Oh yes, that's it! That's it!" She had already nearly gone over the top from her own grinding and his fingers. He didn't have to stay down on her long. He slipped his big thumb inside of her. "N-n-n-n-nn! Kiss...it...you...ooooh! Ooooh! Oooh!" Her legs clamped together so hard that Mikey half expected to emerge with cauliflower ears. "Ooooh, my man," she purred softly as she relaxed. "My beautiful man." Their "lightning round" was over in time for them to get ready for work. He got up and kissed her sweetly before he quickly strode out the door. "You just did that to get to the shower first! Save me some hot water!"

***

The morning had started so well. Weakened by the euphoria he'd just experienced at April's hands, he foolishly agreed to accept her mission. "You'll be a mighty knight on a sacred quest for his lady love!" he said, again impersonating her. Now he had to go down to underwriting to talk to the inscrutable Scary Steve. She didn't think this guy was creepy, but everyone else did.

Mikey could just see his co-workers being interviewed on TV after the quadruple ax-murder, "He seemed harmless enough. Kind of a quiet guy, kept to himself. I mean, I guess we all thought he was a little 'off' but I just can't believe he went all Lizzie Borden on Mikey and his friends while they slept!"

On his way to the elevator he passed Jerry and Teddy, once his best friends at Shield. Now, there was nothing but animosity between them. They were chatting up two nice looking young girls from data entry. Those boys were assholes, all right, but they were handsome and clever assholes from moneyed families—and that went a long way, didn't it? He pressed the down button and the doors opened.

There was his roommate Ollie. He had just barely gotten his hands out of Brigid's skirt quickly enough to avoid an office incident. Mikey stepped inside the elevator. "Love in an elevator..." he sang as the doors closed.

"Livin' it up while I'm goin' down." Ollie replied in kind. Mikey pushed the 'B' button in the key pad

"So, Mikey, is April goin' over to yer gaff tonoight? I wouldn't mind seeing me own place once in a whoile!"

"Don't get your Irish, up Bridgey. Ollie, she ever do anything besides scold with that tongue?"

"Oh, aren't ye the cute hoor! Just because you're a big strappin' footballer ya think ya can get away with being a joker. Give him a clatter on the gob, Ollie! April knocked him right the feck out; ye can take him, lover."

"She hit him with a ten pound coffee mug!"

"And when I came to she had sex with me, Ollie. Whatcha say, Bridgey? Can I borrow your boy?"

"He's a man, not a boy, Michael. And if he kicked yer back doors in, ye'd walk with a limp fer a week!" The elevator opened and one of the execs was standing in the doorway.

"Skardowski!" The Senior VP of Nearly Everything beamed at him, then looking at Ollie and Brigid, added, "How's it going, troops?"

"Just foine, Mr. Vander Zanden," Brigid answered, rescuing Ollie who was terrible with names.

"Say, Mikey, I'm going bowling with your pals Jerry and Teddy on Saturday morning. We could use a fourth. Roll partners for some brewskies?"

"I'd love to Mr. V, but I'm volunteering in the high school weight room on Saturday mornings. The Wanowee Wildcats are going all the way to Camp Randall next fall!"

"That's the spirit, Skardowski! My boy is a freshman on the team next year!"

"Say, the three of us all bowl, how about after work on Wednesday night? Give you a chance to warm up before you embarrass those clowns on Saturday."

"You ALL bowl?" he looked at Brigid.

"We Irish invented it, Mr. V!"

"Um, that was we Dutch."

"Ah, ya stole it from us, ya roight bastards!" The elevator doors tried to close but Mikey held them open for Vander Zanden. Brigid stared at the Senior VP of Nearly Everything and did show even a trace of a smile. Vander Zanden looked at her for only a second before he broke out laughing. Brigid turned on her cutey-pie smile.

"You're a firecracker, Irish!" he said loudly and burst out laughing. "Keep an eye on her, son!" he said to Ollie, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. "Going up or down, troops?" he said. Mikey pointed down. "I'm going up. I'll wait for the next one. Wednesday after work it is!" He stepped back and the door closed.

"That, lover, is how ya play the office game!" she said to Ollie. "And this one here," she said nodding toward Mikey, "can play it under extra pressure."

"Yes, I can."

"Is that why you had your hand on Mikey's ass the whole time he was talking to the Senior VP?"

"Absolutely!" They all giggled. "Smart move not throwing April under the bus. She bowls fer shite. She'd be embarrassed."

"I'm going all the way down to underwriting. Where you two going?"

"We're not going anywhere, Mikey. We just like the elevator." Ollie grinned and made eyes at his lover.

"A couple a 'cute hoors' ye are," Mikey said with a horrible attempt at Brigid's accent. The doors opened to a pair of irritated women from clerical waiting with heavy-looking file crates stuffed with computer operations manuals. Ollie took the crate from one of the pair. Mikey grabbed the other one and stacked it on top of the first. "You need something to keep your hands out of trouble," he whispered slyly to Ollie. Brigid blew Mikey a kiss as he stepped off the elevator.

He headed toward underwriting. Time to meet up with Scary Steve. Underwriting had the same fluorescent lighting as the rest of the building, but even with the doors and ceiling decorated with Christmas lights, it still seemed dark and oppressive. Scary Steve was in the "Old Policy" file room, the heart of darkness. Mikey found Steve with his head buried in one of the four-foot long sliding file drawers. He pulled a file and stood up. He saw Mikey walking toward him and froze. Then he began to walk away. "Steve! I want to talk to you!"

Scary Steve remained motionless for a moment and then, with a little scream, threw the file up in the air and ran. Mikey, with wide eyes, watched the cascade of flying papers for a moment. But then some athletic instinct kicked in, and he gave chase. Steve got to a closed door at the far end of the room and pulled frantically at the knob. It was locked. Mikey pulled to a stop a few feet away from him. Steve flattened himself against the door, and then curled into a semi-fetal position covering his head with his hands. "It was all a misunderstanding! I never meant to grab her there! I didn't know she was your girl!"

Mikey laughed. Then felt guilty about it. "Hey, buddy. I just want to talk."

"You aren't going to pound me?"

"No." So much for "Scary" Steve.

"I didn't mean to grab her at all, and then it just looked like...I thought she wanted me to."

"April thinks you're a sweet guy, Steve. Neither one of us is mad at you."

"So, this is just an underwriting question? I can help you study for the exam. I'm good at it. Not saying you're stupid or anything. I mean lots of former football players are really smart. Former NFL QB from the 1960's Frank Ryan, has a PhD in Advanced Mathematics!"

"It's not an underwriting question. I passed the company's exam—barely, on my second try—and how the fuck do you remember things like that?"

"Freaky brainy kid."

"You're no kid, Steve. You're a grown man. Let's go pick up your file and have a chat." Steve nodded and followed Mikey back to the file. They both began to pick up the scattered papers. Mikey had about a dozen sheets in his big mitt when he began to stand up. Steve suddenly reached over and grabbed him by the back of his head.

"File drawer!" he said, snatching his hand back. "You get used to it. It really hurts when you hit the old bean on one of these beasties."

"I reckon that would have. Thanks, Steve."

"Mikey, did you really beat up six guys in an alley a couple months ago?"

"I had help."

"I heard. A tiny hippie chick and the little gay dude from the coffee shop..."

"They're tougher than you think." Steve took the mess of papers to a small table and began to sort them. With scarcely a glance at each, he put the thirty papers in order in just a few seconds. "Great shades of Rain Man!" Mikey whispered.

"I'm not a savant. My brain just does some things really well." He went back to the drawer and quickly returned the file. "Want to see something cool?"

"Sure. Cool stuff is cool."

"Well said."

"Did you just poke fun at me?"

"Sorry."

"No, man. I was glad you felt like you could. Show me your cool stuff."

Steve led him back to his computer. He punched a couple commands into the keyboard. "Okay if I do the show?" Steve called out loudly.

"Go for it!" an unseen voice called from a cubicle in the sparsely populated basement maze. "Show time, everybody!"

"Mikey, click on the Santa Claus icon." Mikey moved the mouse to the tiny Santa and clicked it. The entire floor went dark. A booming "HO! HO! HO!" rang out and the show began. A driving beat began pulsing through a sound system Mikey had no idea was even there. It was a Manheim Steamroller Christmas mix. Every Christmas light began to blink on and off in perfect synchronization with the music. Heads prairie dogged as people stood up in their cubicles to get a better view. It lasted about two minutes, and Mikey loved every second of it. He joined in the enthusiastic round of applause at the end.

"That's the shit, Steve! Why don't you tell people you have this set up?"

"You know when you see one of those houses that does this on Youtube? People drive by all night long and want to see the show. It would get pretty annoying for the people who work down here if everybody came down and wanted to see the show."

"You're a cool guy, Steve."

"Really?"

"Smart enough to do this. Considerate enough to not annoy people with it. Cool." Steve blushed, but Mikey went on. "You know what, buddy? You should put on a show like this at the company Christmas party."

"Okay. If you think it's a good idea."

"Hey, Steve...why don't you ever talk to people?"

"Well, you know what everybody calls me?"

"Yeah. Scary Steve."

"I don't hate that. I mean, sure it keeps people away from me and all, but it's better than the alternatives. What would they call me if they really knew what I was like? Scaredy Steve, Easy to Beat Up Steve, Never Had a Woman Steve..."

"Never—mind," Mikey made a desperate attempt to cover what he had been about to exclaim. "Never mind about all that. You're a nice guy. And my friends and I will stick up for you. You've got to meet some people, get out in the world. Isn't there a girl somewhere you have an eye on?" Mikey saw him turn red. "Come on, big guy. Who turns your crank?"

"I pretty much have to do that myself."

"Come on, who is she?"

"Well you know Gretchen, the bartender from Vander Voot's Varsity?"

"Slow down, grasshopper. The little bird must learn to feed itself before it flies."

"Your faux Confucian saying makes no sense, but I wasn't setting after Gretchen. Could you imagine that?"

"I have imagined it more than few times!"

"Heh, who wouldn't? Anyway Gretchen's got a cousin that runs the kitchen. I got into town about a week before the rest of the cohort; I didn't have to work yet, and was looking for something to do. I found out Vander Voot's Varsity had one of those quiz games I like. Triple V's was always deserted when I went in there on weekday afternoons. This amazing girl with soulful eyes came out and sat at the bar while she did some of the paperwork and prep before supper. I hear she's like some kind of super chef. Anyway she always watched LOST DVD's on the big screen. And she had a little notebook where she took notes and cross-referenced theories. I kind of timed my visits to be there at the same time. She smiled at me once or twice. Gretchen kept offering to introduce us, but I would have screwed it up."

"Dude...the skinny, I mean slim, redhead? What's her name again?"

"Letje," Steve spoke the name like it was a dream.

"Well, she's perfect for you! Maybe she'll 'let ya' take her to the Christmas party!"

"I wouldn't know where to start! I couldn't ask her. What if she said no?"

"Then we move onto one of the three billion other women in the world."

"Actually, with the world population being roughly 6.8 billion and 49.76% of that being female, there are 3.38 billion females in the world."

"Better yet."

"Not actually. Around 1.014 billion of those females are under 18 years old."

"Oh."

"And 640 million of them are over 50. I don't think I'm ready for a cougar."

"I agree. If you were, I'd send you up to accounting...there's that one MILF with the leopard print...Sorry, go on."

"That leaves roughly 1.726 billion women between the ages of 18 and 50."

"Steve, you've put some thought into this haven't you?"

"I have a lot of time on my hands at night."

"You ever watch the BIG BANG THEORY? Just curious."

"You think I'm a Sheldon?"

"No, my friend, you are a Leonard all the way. And April watches that show every week, just like millions of other women, and they all think Leonard's adorable."